Saturday, October 5, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 159.06

“You make a good point.” Jasfoup held up his hands. “Limbs up who has a taxi with the meter running outside.” Two arms, a tentacle and some sort of claw appendage reached for the ceiling. “Okay. Out of those people, who among you has an active assignment for soul collection?” One arm remained upright. “And you...” Jasfoup frowned. “...Sir? Where's your collection?”

Harold took a step back as the owner of the vaguely humanoid arm came forward. The arm might have been human, as was the other three and the two legs but the head was that of a fly, albeit a fly with a head the size of a beachball and metallic-coloured green eyes the size of two serving bowls. It was the mouth Harold found most disturbing, full of feelers and hairs and vertical slits that looks vaguely obscene. “My collection is the mage Rahassan in the Land of Shadows where the dead cannot be called.”

“Ah.” Jasfoup swallowed. “After you then, sir, but...” He stared at the assembled customers, catching the gaze of as many as he could, “bags I go second.”

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